Love You Like I Do
by Prisoner1602
Summary: When Evan dies, his friends are left to try and hold things together.


This was written from a couple of prompts I got on tumblr. The names are staying Evan, Red, Henrietta, and Georgie, since this was actually written before they were named. This has a fair bit of potentially upsetting things, including character death, mentions of suicide, self harm, and mentions of drug abuse. So there's your warning for that. Title's from a HIM song because it was the first thing that caught my eye. I dunno. It doesn't really fit and may change.

* * *

At least Georgie hadn't found him. At least Red had had time to send the younger goth a text and tell him to go do something with Ike.

Red just collapsed next to the still body of his friend, reached out and faltered. He already knew what he was going to find out, and.. Fuck. He'd tried several times before he just gave up, staying where he was as he fumbled for his phone again.

He'd tried to think of what to do next. Who to call. _Obviously_ he had to call _someone_, but the right person to call was escaping his grasp. Eventually he'd gone for the first person that seemed helpful. He'd managed to get a call through to Henrietta, though she hadn't picked up. Whatever. She'd show up eventually.

Red tried to reach out again, his fingertips just barely brushing Evan's hair. At that slight touch, he'd just lost it. The tears came. Not even tears, just full on sobbing. Evan was gone. There wasn't any point in calling an ambulance; when Red finally worked up the courage to actually touch him, to cup his face in his hands and just sob, he was… cold. Colder than he usually was. Red leaned down, pressing his forehead against Evan's and just staying there.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, how long he'd knelt over his.. his Evan's body, until Henrietta showed up and started to actually do things. A blanket when he wouldn't move, phone calls when he finally managed to admit he hadn't done anything. A vague mumble about Georgie. A sort of desperate sob for Evan to just_ fucking come back, this wasn't fair, why now Things were supposed to be better now. We were happy and what about Georgie and Henri and what about __**me**__?!_

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid. But he couldn't help it. Couldn't do anything, couldn't control the things he was doing. Couldn't let go of Evan when the paramedics and police finally arrived. They'd said something, probably something about him not being able to help. He didn't know, he wasn't really paying attention. The only thing that did make him let go was when Henrietta crouched down next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders to tug him away. He'd let go of Evan in order to shove the girl away, lashing out at her until he'd actually hit her. He'd feel guilty about it later, but for now he just had to get back to—

The paramedics were crowded around Evan, and the police were stepping forward and asking questions and nothing was making sense anymore; it was like the floor had been pulled out from under his feet and any sense of direction had just vanished. Evan was dead and they were taking him away and he wasn't going to see him again and he couldn't remember what he was supposed to do and Georgie was going to ask questions and Henri was rubbing her face and it was all red and Evan wasn't there and there were too many people around and they needed to stop fucking touching him and poking and prodding at his arms and then they were touching the silvery band around his neck and they weren't supposed to that wasn't for them why were they doing that they had to stop he didn't fucking like that he didn't like being touched and why were they pulling up his sleeves he didn't like that either not when random people did it and there was that look and he didn't like that, Evan didn't like that and why weren't they stopping and why were they still talking to him and why did it feel like everything was crushing in on him and why weren't they leaving him alone he couldn't help them he couldn't help Evan he couldn't do anything he couldn't eve e.

He let Henrietta tug him away, unable to pull away from her. He just sort of trailed after the shorter girl, leaning down over her as he sobbed into her shoulder. He guessed maybe he was still breathing; he hadn't passed out yet. Or maybe he'd died too? He didn't know. Didn't care, so long as he could just stay there. Eventually the girl must've moved, must've led him up to the bathroom. Maybe he'd said something, or maybe she'd just noticed, because he really didn't remember moving. Once he'd finished emptying his stomach, he stood up to flush the toilet and started to the sink to at least make an attempt to rinse out his mouth and brush his teeth, even if all the motions were just automatic at this point. He'd turned to trudge out of the room, the blanket that had been around his shoulders slipping down until he'd lost it.

Once he'd made his way to the living room again, he collapsed onto the couch, curled up until he could hide his face against his knees and his arms around his legs. That just set off another round of sobbing as he clawed at his thigh. Sometime during that the goth girl must've slipped away. Maybe Red had said something, choked out something through his tears, or maybe she just knew, like she always seemed to. She came back down to drape Evan's trench coat around Red's shoulders and to gently tuck Red's stuffed bear into his arms.

He… guessed time passed after that. He didn't really remember. Georgie mostly stayed with Henrietta or Ike, sometimes Red's parents; Red just wasn't in any state to take care of him. Henrietta would come over sometimes with food and sit until he actually managed to eat. Kind of gently remind him to take care of himself. Which mostly consisted of her pushing him into the bathroom and telling him he looked like a filthy bum.

He was aware it wasn't really fair to Henrietta; she'd lost Evan, too, but… Fuck. He didn't care. He just wanted him back, he didn't have the energy left to take care of anyone else.

Occasionally he'd get dressed in something nice, but most of his time was spent in Evan's clothing. His shirts that were far too big under some of his sweaters, and the pajama bottoms he could tie around his waist. All under his trench coat, of course. He'd tried to get it hemmed up further; it still drug the ground on him. Except they'd all wanted to keep it, and.. Fuck, he couldn't do that. He'd eventually asked Henrietta one of the times she'd came over, and sat there awkwardly as she hemmed up the bottom. At least she hadn't made him take it off.

At… At least he had all of Evan's things? He didn't know if that made him feel better or worse. The funeral home had given him all of Evan's rings and jewerly, and he'd just kept it. Some of the rings fit on his fingers, but most were too big. Those went into the box with Evan's other rings, and.. Fuck. He felt all sorts of fucked up as he struggled with that metal band and that little screw, but it was a sort of comfort, he guessed. Maybe. Mostly it was just a weight around his neck that made his heart ache more than it had before.

A few days had passed and then it was the funeral. Which Red wasn't sure he was ready for. And there was Georgie and.. He cast a desperate look at Henrietta, and the girl seemed to understand, turning to comfort the younger male. Red had enough problems, trying to keep it together when Evan's grandmother came over to him. He'd expected to be blamed, but when the little old woman just hugged him, he lost it. Again. The woman was so fucking kind and Red couldn't help but sob and try not to, just winding up choking and having to pull away from her to rush outside. Shit. He choked on his own breathing, gagging and making a scene he hoped no one saw.

It was.. harder after that. So much harder. Evan was really gone. He wasn't coming back. They weren't going to get married, or move away, or have a house away from everyone. They weren't able to do anything together anymore. Red reached up to curl his hand around that band around his neck, holding onto it even if his fingers pressed into his throat and hurt. At least it pulled his focus away for a moment.

A while went by until Red could pick up Evan's ashes, and.. Fuck. It was hard imagining that. Evan was… He tried to keep himself together and made plans to take Georgie and Henrietta with him after he'd picked out a spot. Outside the town, not too far away. They'd said out in the country, but… This would do. He wasn't planning on moving that far away anymore. He just… couldn't. The biodegradable urn was buried, then the little sapling. Little poplar, like he'd said. It'd get taller, it had to. Red waved Henri and Georgie away, throwing his keys to the girl as he sat himself down. He could tell they were reluctant to leave, but he'd heard the car pull away, and.. Just sat. Stared at the tree. Thought a little. Thought a lot, actually. Mostly just sobbed and  
tried to keep himself together.

Eventually, he'd given into the idea. It'd been there since that first day alone. Well, as alone as he got anymore. People seemed to be fucking worried about him. Henrietta, mostly. Evan's Bubbe even called sometimes. Hell, Stan had said something to him the one time he'd gone out. And that one blonde kid. It'd been kind of a moment of weakness, but he hadn't really regretted it. Just took a while until he'd managed to finally work up the nerve. And actually get time alone. Thank god for the trench coat, it made keeping things out of view so much easier.

Red dug down into one of the pockets, fishing out one of Evan's cigarettes, raising it to his lips and lighting it, shoving the lighter back into the pocket it came from, going to dig into his jeans pocket for his phone. He unlocked the screen and flicked around through the photos, zooming in on one and laying it down in his lap. He dug into his pocket again, pulling out a razor blade this time. It was then that he worried about it, but.. Fuck it, it was way too late. He unbuttoned his jeans enough to push them down, turning the phone away until it was positioned right. Even then he had to take several tries, lowering his hand and picking it back up, before he drug the razor along his thigh, letting out a hissed sound of pain through his teeth. Shit, no. He grit his teeth and carried on, carving out the letters. God, he was stupid. He was so fucking stupid.

By the time he'd finished, the lines were jagged and he had tears streaking down his face, but at least it was there, right? That'd stay there. Even if he was sure Evan would be mad at him, he'd understand, right? Red tugged his jeans up some, almost to the bloody spot on his leg, and just.. waited. Tried to wait it out, let the cuts scab over so he didn't end up fucking up Evan's name. He was pretty sure he head the car coming, and hurried to pull his pants up the rest of the way and button them, doing up the buttons of the trench coat as well, to keep that hidden. He grinned to Henrietta and gave Georgie a bit of an awkward hug before he headed over to the car, brushing off Henrietta's concern.

More time passed. People in the town seemed to stop caring. The few that had even cared in the first place. It was.. just them now. Just the three, and a few others. Evan's grandmother. Red's own parents. Maybe Henri's mother. He didn't know. It'd been months, and Henrietta still had to remind him of the most basic of things. He'd dropped out of the online schooling; it hadn't been worth it, he hadn't seen the point. No reason to get good grades, he didn't have a reason to go to college and get a good job anymore. Georgie, maybe, but.. Red's parents had stepped up to take care of him. So that was settled. He'd mostly spent his time making the short trip out to visit Evan. Just to sit on the ground in front of his tree and pretend it made him feel better. Never really did, and after each trip he just felt worse.

He.. could feel better, though. The thought had crossed his mind, and it felt more and more appealing after each passing day. It'd work, he knew it would. Evan had said so himself. Red had even gotten as far as standing in the bathroom, staring at the medicine cabinet. Wouldn't take that much effort, really. Maybe a few minutes. Then just.. It'd be better, they'd be together, right? Of course, just.. Had to reach out, and….


End file.
